Like a gentle mother, you hold their hands.
The baby insecurities you used to store away.
Wandering in dark corners of sequestered forests.
But honestly, honest, who isn’t broken?
We were once young, under the sun,
Cradled from the innocence of our time.
But that is not real, that is not forever.
Beauty of humanity is we are so fragile.
From only a year on earth to 100 of them,
We are who we are.
Thank you for being honest.
To me, you were a perfect, empty statue,
Until you broke it all down
Out of the hollowness
Into a vision that is so unique,
so original, so complex,
So full of your beauty.
Each moment is new
Nothing is perfect
Nothing is the same.